


Inevitabilities

by nan00k



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, lolix, suicidal behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 15:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4672133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nan00k/pseuds/nan00k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Locus dies on Chorus--at least until Felix takes the memory matrix his partner left him and plugs it into his ship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inevitabilities

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, tumblr theories ran amok and then this happened. This turned out to be both longer and shorter than I planned. I'm not ready for next episode, guys. My tumblr user name is badger-witch, btw, in case you spot this up on there.
> 
>  
> 
> disclaimer: i don’t own these trashcan mercenaries or the red vs blue storyline  
> warnings: major character death, angsty mercs, suicidal behavior, slight AU (gonna be major AU come monday…)

He didn’t understand.

Coming into awareness was sudden and jarring. He only had one previous sequence of human interactions to orientate himself. It had been brief, back at the labs aboard the _Staff of Charon_. Aiden Price had informed him of his designation and his eventual purpose, of being implanted in the Meta, Mark II, armor.

The impossibilities of AI acquisition through the UNSC hierarchy had left Malcolm Hargrove in the interesting position of experimenting with illegal artificial intelligence creation in his own private labs. It had just been his lucky day to discover Aidan Price, a discarded remnant of Freelancer, was in a need of a job.

Even more unexpected, they had found a quick donor and Hargrove took the chance. He enjoyed, the AI noted immediately, having several backup plans.

There was minimal structure to follow after that. He didn’t have any directives. He had been shut down in some sort of haste; presumably, his creators hadn’t been ready for him or hadn’t yet found an immediate purpose for him.

He was deactivated for approximately three weeks and four days before being activated for a second time. It took him a second to analyze the new surroundings (a shuttle), the ship’s internal systems (navigation was currently set to unknown coordinates in deep space), and the only human presence on board.

He immediately identified the human as the mercenary Felix. Rapidly, the AI understood the human was alone. Records indicated this was an unlikely scenario.

It appeared to him then that one of the predicted models of failure had happened during the course of the Chorus mission. Locus--recorded and known partner of Felix prior to their entrance into the mercenary field--had been killed in action or captured.

The ship’s interior was stifling and silent. Faint engines hummed in the background. It was dark and cold. The shutters over the front of the ship’s windows were locked in place. It was a large, gloomy box.

The AI observed the unconscious mercenary, slumped over at the controls of the ship. Every breath he took seemed ragged, through medical scans revealed nothing physically wrong with the human.

His name was Felix Choi. He was thirty-six-years old, an orphan from Earth who saw six tours before the Great War had ended. His PTSD nightmares often resulted in sleepless nights examining and cleaning weapons. He couldn’t hold his alcohol well. He painted his nails, alternating colors varying shades of color, in different ranges of the orange and green spectrums. He found killing enjoyable, because it sated an underlying need to survive again and again through the deaths of others.

The AI hovered over the human and knew nearly everything about him.

He didn’t know why the human was alone or why the human seemed as broken as he did.

He didn’t wake Felix, a man he had yet to properly meet and yet he knew everything about him, because once upon a time, _that_  Locus had known everything about him.

When Felix finally stirred, the AI spoke and immediately regretted it.

**0000**

The only name he had was Locus.

It wasn’t his. Naming himself after the human donor who provided him with the neural mapping his artificial intellect was based on seemed somewhat detrimental. There were plenty of rules against it, as far as he knew. The legacy of Project Freelancer, which was the foundation for his own making, had provided strong evidence it was hazardous.

He knew that the models and structure of his formatting had changed somewhat; he wasn’t like Project Freelancer AIs, which were outdated and inherently flawed, even before the infamous doomed Director had split the Alpha AI apart. He wasn’t confined by the danger of rampancy or a seven year maximum lifespan. He was advanced compared to earlier designs.

He called himself Locus anyway.

He called himself that, because before he could ask Felix what to call himself, Felix’s rejection had left him with no other choice.

The late Locus had chosen the designation for a specific reason.

This Locus decided it was reason enough for him, too.

**0000**

He didn’t understand why Felix refused to let him speak.

He had tried to reach out during the first cycle he was online, mainly to confirm their situation. Felix had been hunched over the control panel, breathing deeply even as he remained conscious. His hands had been touching the interface where he had inserted the matrix containing the Smart AI.

Felix’s shoulders had been tense, but the moment the AI spoke, he had jolted. His eyes were wild, bloodshot, with clear signs of duress and sleep deprivation on his face.

“Integration with the ship was a success,” Locus said. “What would you like to do, Felix?”

He had asked that only to verify that the location directives Felix had put into the navigation systems were accurate. At that moment, they were headed for absolutely nothing in particular. It was just empty space at those coordinates. Locus didn’t want to assume the human had mistakenly put the wrong coordinates in, but judging the human’s current state, maybe it had been an error.

“Are you all right--?” he started to ask.

“Shut up,” Felix said, his voice harsh. His breathing was still uneven. “Don’t...don’t speak.”

Locus tried to understand what that meant. Wouldn’t the mercenary prefer to have Locus maintain the ship and tell him about what he was doing? Felix didn’t seem physically up for piloting or navigating.

“I’ll need to communicate--,” he tried to say.

Felix slammed his fist down on the console. “Shut up!”

Locus didn’t say anything, deciding that was a direct order. It was still a strange reaction.

Chest heaving again, Felix didn’t look at the console. He was staring at the floor, his eyes wide.

“Don’t speak to me. Don’t,” he said. “Only talk if you have to. Never to me.”

At first, the order made little sense. The AI eventually surmised the human meant he shouldn’t directly speak to Felix; speaking out loud in a general manner would be permissible.

Locus didn’t test Felix’s meaning too much. He didn’t speak after that. Felix said nothing else either.

**0000**

Sixty hours later, Locus had found some semblance of order to the disarray within the ship. Felix had not emerged from the bunk on the wall and Locus only kept a cursory glance on his vitals. He was malnourished, exhausted, but finally sleeping.  

The shuttle wasn’t made for long term flight, but if he was able to guide them somewhere with human presence, they could perhaps find another ship. The UNSC had been alerted to the crisis on Chorus, however, and across all the bands Locus could pick up, there was a manhunt for Felix. Dead or alive.

He hadn’t been made for Felix directly, or so Hargrove had assumed. Indirectly, Hargrove and Price had made a mistake if they planned on making the AI for any other purpose than where he was currently doing. The human mind he had been based on had particular priorities and they were hard to override when they hadn’t done so from the start.

One of those priorities included Felix. Hargrove had lacked the imagination to expect it.

Locus made the objective choice to avoid UNSC controlled space and monitor the bands carefully. Without any other purpose, he didn’t see the harm in it.

Felix likely had no idea, or he didn’t care if he did, that he was now a target. His behavior and lack of care toward his own health didn’t seem to show that he would care.

Then, shortly after waking again, Felix had silently moved over to the console chair. He didn’t say anything at first. He fidgeted and picked at his exosuit. His armor lay in pieces all over the shuttle floor, like he had thrown them there.

Finally, Felix's agitation boiled over into words.

“Can you lock the controls?” he asked, voice croaky from underuse.

Locus considered the question and decided Felix was either testing his obedience to remain silent or he actually waiting for Locus’ answer.

“Lock the controls?” Locus asked.

Felix still didn’t look at the console. Locus projected a holographic form of himself and Felix didn’t even flinch. He acted like he didn’t see the light at all.

“Lock the navigation controls. Make sure I can’t turn us around,” Felix said.

“The current location we’re headed towards is uninhabited and I didn’t see any nearby worlds suitable for human visitation,” Locus said, hesitant. “Can I ask why we’re headed there?”

“Pick another fucking spot then, I don’t care,” Felix snapped. “Just make sure I can’t turn us around.”

“Turn around, back to Chorus?”

Then, abruptly, rage.

“JUST FUCKING DO IT!” Felix snarled.

He stood up and in the same motion kicked the console chair. The metal strut that supported the base was bent. Felix then looked at Locus, at the hologram, and he flinched. He turned away quickly with his shoulders hunched, like the image burned him.

The command was confusing on the surface, but Locus quickly deduced the reason behind it. They had just left Chorus, Felix wasn’t thinking clearly, and he knew it. The abrupt show of judgement of his limitations didn’t seem like the Felix that Locus knew through the memories he had of the mercenary.

Still, he obeyed the order. He altered the navigation console options and shut out Felix’s authorization to change them. It was easy enough to do.

“It’s done,” Locus said.

Felix didn’t reply. He opened an MRE and stared at it. He dropped it without eating it, onto the narrow shelf opposite of the controls, and he went to the bunk. He didn’t sleep for a long time, but he didn’t move.

Locus watched him and said nothing. He adjusted the navigation coordinates to guide them away from the empty space and back toward civilization.

**0000**

Days passed in absolute silence. Felix didn’t get up from the bunk for nearly forty-eight hours. Then, he’d get up and wouldn’t stop pacing. His agitation fluctuating from simmering to angry outbursts. In the tight confines of the shuttle, there wasn’t much he could destroy to vent that energy.

He still didn’t eat. He didn’t drink enough water. He often times lied still, like he was sleeping, but Locus knew he was wide awake.  

Everything he knew about this specific human indicated this was the wrong behavior. Something was wrong. Locus couldn’t ask him directly, but he began to watch him more carefully.

In the middle of his pacing, Felix sat back down on the bent chair. His agitation hadn’t faded in the least.

“I should have fucking done it,” Felix said.

His words could have punched a hole through the hull. Locus watched him in silence. Felix didn’t say anything else.

His knee was shaking up and down. The wave of anxious energy was coming back.

Locus finally decided to speak up, testing just how focused Felix was. “I don’t follow.”

Felix didn’t seem to hear him, or just didn’t want to acknowledge the AI had spoken. His knee kept bouncing. He had peeled off his gloves earlier and started to pick at the skin around his nails. Felix was always careful about his hands. He was damaging them. The heavy rings under his eyes were darker than the day before.

“Fuck. What the fuck am I doing?” Felix said. The bounce carried up to his shoulders. “You fucking piece of shit--”

If he was talking to Locus then, he didn’t seem like he wanted a response. He got up and then moved over to the console. His body was still shaking.

“Felix, what are you doing?” Locus asked.

He was answered, but Felix didn’t seem like he was speaking to the AI. He was just tapping at the screen, oblivious to the fact he wasn’t allowed access to the controls.

“I need to go back. I need to do this right,” he said, eyes shining. “I let them kill you. I walked away. Those fucking Freelancers--they’re not going to walk away from this.”

Locus considered him carefully. Felix never became this unhinged. The last time had been at the end of their fifth joint tour and they had spent under enemy fire for four days, trapped and ready to die under debris. They hadn’t sleep and Locus had always kept the memory of his red-eyed partner in the back of his mind, wary of how far Felix could go until he reached his limits.

He always remembered those blazing eyes Felix wore when he became stressed--or enraptured by something. Particularly by something violent.

Felix abruptly cursed and slammed his hands onto the console.

“Why the fuck can’t I access the coordinates?!” he shouted.

Locus activated the hologram and appeared next to him. “You ordered me to lock them.”

“Unlock them!”

“You intend to return to Chorus?”

“Just unlock the goddamn controls,” Felix said. He had turned to face Locus and seemed both angrier and warier that he could see the AI. “Now!”

“I can’t,” Locus said.

Felix sputtered, indignant and at his brink.

“Are you--unlock them!” he shouted. “I order you to unlock them!”

“You’re not in a state of mind to be giving orders,” Locus said. Felix’s vitals were worse than ever. His heart rate was up. His blood sugar levels must have been dangerously low by that point.

His response and refusal to obey Felix’s orders stunned the human.

“Are you...are you fucking kidding me?” Felix let out a strangled sound; it was a far cry from his normal laugh. “You’re a fucking _computer_. Obey me!”

“I am,” Locus replied, watching as Felix’s face seemed to shift from anger to shock sporadically. “You ordered me to keep you from returning to Chorus. I’m assuming the reason has something to do with the death of Locus, your partner, formally named Samuel Olmedo?”

Felix looked like he had just been struck.

He started to breathe heavily again. His eyes became even more vivid. He was angry.

Locus watched as he turned around to begin tapping erratically on the controls, like he abruptly forgot that he couldn’t change them. His tapping became increasingly heavy handed and turned into slaps and closed-fist slams.

“Felix,” Locus began, “there’s no sense in--”

With a sudden scream, Felix began to punch the console window.

“Don’t you fucking talk like you fucking knew him!” he shouted. He was enraged. “You’re not him!”

“I’m not,” Locus said.

“Take us back to Chorus!”

“You’ll get yourself killed.”

“Only after I carve out both of those Freelancers,” Felix snarled. “I’m going to feed them their own intestines. I’m going to crush their fucking skulls like they crushed his! I’m going to carve his name over _their fucking bones_!”

There was a crack from the glass pane of the console window. Locus shoved aside the shuttle’s interior warning systems, complaining about the abuse.

“In the state you’re in, I doubt you’d get as far as shooting one of them,” he said, severe as he brought up several files on the Freelancer agents still presumed alive and dangerous on Chorus. “Agent Carolina and Agent Washington are not enemies you could easily take on by yourself. Without back up, it’s likely you would fail before you had any chance to properly avenge your partner.”

Felix, if he heard him or even understood, just resumed punching the dashboard. The glass pane that projected the estimated arrival and anticipated trajectory of their flight finally caved and crashed down under his fist. Glass shards punctured Felix’s hand and Locus felt mild alarm as blood gushed out from several fingers.

“Felix, stop!” Locus said, voice rising to a shout.

He wasn’t sure if that’s what did it, but Felix didn’t smash his hands down again. He whirled around, like he was drunk. He pointed a bloody finger at him, chest heaving.

“Stop sounding like him. You’re not him,” he spat.

Locus continued to hover there, though he wondered if he should have shut off the hologram. “I can’t just change my voice, though I can resume radio silence once you calm down.”

The lack of food and sleep was catching up to Felix. He fell over, wheezing. He was a far cry from the memory of a boy fresh from the smog-filled back alleys of Los Angeles, eager to ship out and fight aliens. He was nothing like the brat who honed in on Locus immediately during basic. He tormented the older, taller man and the sight of his crooked grin had made Locus frustrated and equally calmed.

Those moments seemed especially far away, even further than they normally did, because those moments weren’t really _this_ Locus’ at all. He still knew of them and knew that what he was seeing was what the real Locus might have called Felix’s worst.

“Just fucking kill me,” Felix said.

Locus didn’t know how to respond to that.

Curled up on the floor, Felix just continued to gasp for air.

“You always said you would,” he said. “Said if I ever got useless, if I ever couldn’t fight anymore, you’d put a bullet between my eyes. I made you swear it. Just like I promised. I kept my promise.”

Locus could only imagine what had transpired on Chorus. Radio transmissions confirmed that the mercenary ship had been pulled down and crashed on a hot spot target. Locus had likely died from that incident, since it corresponded with the flight time records of the shuttle.

Felix had likely killed Locus, judging by his statements. Or at least, he had put him out of his misery. That seemed more likely.

Locus, despite knowing the memories weren’t his, remembered the promise Felix was talking about.

A promise made out on that fourth tour, under a layer of fractured cement. Felix turned to him, red-eyed and breaking. Making him swear to kill him if he broke any further. If he couldn’t fight, Locus had to kill him first.

Locus had promised he would. Felix just grinned and said, “Likewise.”

He wound up keeping his word, Locus realized.

“You promised you would. You piece of shit,” Felix said, hands gripping and pulling at his hair.

“I promised?” Locus asked. He really didn’t know if the mercenary was speaking to him at that point.

“I’m useless now. I fucking ran,” Felix said, ignoring him or just not hearing. “So fucking keep your promise, you piece of shit.”

Locus had just met Felix less than a week ago. None of the memories he had of the man were things he experienced.

Still, he did not like hearing what he was hearing.

“I’m not Locus,” he said, without malice. “That’s not my promise to keep.”

Felix said nothing. He just lied there, breathing heavily. He’d probably pass out on the floor. He needed to eat, but Locus could do nothing to force him.

He wouldn’t kill Felix. That was an order he couldn’t obey because of his programming--and because of who he was based on. He didn’t know what that said of the real Locus or his ability to keep that promise Felix was begging for.

“I can’t take you back to Chorus,” Locus said. “Is there anywhere else you’d prefer?”

There was no response. Felix didn’t move. Locus watched him and realized he was watching him die slowly instead.

“Then I’ll handle it,” he said.

He turned away from the human and considered their options.

Then, he changed the coordinates.

**0000**

It didn’t take him long to use the pings from the private bands Control had set up for the space pirates’ ships to locate the _Staff of Charon_. The ship had moved out to dark space, indicating the disgraced Chairman was indeed on the run and not willing to surrender to the UNSC anytime soon. Locus didn’t answer hails coming in from the _Charon_ , except to confirm the identity of its human occupant.

Felix had eaten the MRE, spending nearly an hour shoving the crumbles into his mouth. Locus kept a cursory eye on the mercenary. He wondered if the man had considered using his own pistol to end his life.

He realized that Felix wouldn’t do that. He would have demanded Locus kill him all the same, if the real Locus had been there and Felix no longer could fight, but it had to be the other man to do it.

Locus did pity him. There was little he could do to help him.

Except...this.

Felix hadn’t gotten up off the floor for the last two days. He curled up on the floor when he was ready to pass out. He hadn’t noticed the trajectory change.

He did notice when they entered the pressurized dock and the shuttle came to a shuddering stop as Locus landed it. He sat up slowly and stared at the door.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“The _Staff of Charon_ ’s main hanger bay,” Locus said.

Felix just stared at the door.

“This is Control’s ship,” he said, his voice flat.

“Affirmative,” Locus said. He re-encrypted the door locks with heavier layers of security. The mercenaries outside were already attempting to open the blast doors. It would take them awhile to get them open.

Felix finally turned his head. He stared blearily up at the AI’s hologram. “Why are we here?”

“You said I could maintain the navigation at my discretion,” Locus said.

A sour looked crossed Felix’s face. “No, I didn’t, asshole. I said you just...wait, why are we here?”

Locus peered back at him. “You asked to die. Surely taking vengeance out on your former employer for abandoning you and your partner would be the best option, outside of returning to Chorus?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Felix asked, with increasing disbelief. His energy seemed to come back to him as he became more aware of how serious the AI was.

“Considering the human mind that I’m based on, do you expect me to make jokes often?” Locus asked.

Felix looked like he couldn’t find words. Locus inclined his holographic form toward the doors.

“I can unlock the door for you,” Locus said. “I can let them in to kill you.”

Hargrove had in fact ordered his few remaining forces to kill Felix on sight. He wanted fewer loose ends. None of the mercenaries outside had any qualms about it. Some were eager to be the one to put a bullet in the infamous mercenary’s skull.

Felix was in no position to put up a fight. If he had been keeping up with his health, he might have been able to handle it.

Now, he just stared at Locus with wary disbelief. He didn’t know how to respond. Locus could relate to that.

“I take that as a no,” the AI said. There was a clang outside, but the mercenaries still hadn’t grasped the fact they’d have to use power tools to physically break down the exterior door.

Anger colored Felix’s expression slowly. It made him seem healthier. “Control can go choke on a dick. They fucked us over, but I want to kill the Freelancers. They’re my priority.”

“Malcolm Hargrove will try to kill you for your failures on Chorus,” Locus warned him.

That, unsurprisingly, prompted Felix to shakily get to his feet. “ _Shit_. Why did you bring us here? I’m not going to fucking die until I can kill Washington and Carolina,” he spat.

He really wasn’t interested in dying there then. Locus considered him for a moment and decided his next course of actions.

“I’ll be back then,” he said.

Felix flinched. “Wait, what? What does that mean?”

“By the time they break through, I’ll likely be back,” Locus warned him. “You’ll have enough time to decide if you want to live and surrender, or if you would like to take part in an assisted suicide.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Felix demanded. His bewilderment was blending with wary alarm. “How--how can you go anywhere?!”

Locus didn’t answer him.

He left one ship for another easily, because Hargrove had made sure that anything the Freelancer AIs could do, he could do better. The AI that powered the _Charon_ noticed him, but didn’t fight his intrusion.

There was a vague, passing sense of sympathy exchanged between them. The tired AI merely assessed him with aged, broken consideration.

Then, she pointed him in the right direction.

**0000**

In Hargrove’s defense, it was likely that this was one of the less likely turn of events he would have considered in his plethora of planning.

He had no reason to expect an AI attack and infiltration on his ship. Maybe it was because the remaining Freelancer AI fragment was far away on Chorus. Maybe it was because he assumed his own ancient AI running the _Charon_ would be enough of a defense. He never expected it to get this close, though. That was his main failure. He had expected to win this without any shadow of a doubt. He had few backup plans that extended this far, with this much failure haunting him.

Hargrove had fewer backup plans yet in place to handle the loss of one of those sparse emergency plans. The Meta II armor had been packed away in his collections. It was meant for taking on Chorus if Locus and Felix had merely died or failed again in their mission. It was useless now that the communications tower had been activated and the UNSC now knew everything. Not even the Meta could battle the UNSC for him.

And it wouldn’t, especially now, as Locus found the armor and found zero resistance in taking it.

The system was complex, but not much more so than a shuttle. Locomotion for a bipedal creature was difficult, but two steps off the platform later, he was moving smoothly. The combat droid that had been prepared in the wake of Sharkface’s demise was one of the best models, top of the line.

Locus took a moment to flex the fingers and watch the armored parts move fluidly. He recalled the act of physical motion from the living Locus’ memories, but it really couldn’t be replicated. It felt...right.

He didn’t bother with stealth as he left. It took him longer to find the docking bay, having to use an elevator lift down a level, than it did to find the secret rooms Hargrove had kept while still moving through the ship’s systems. Moving physically was incredibly slow. That much he could have lived without.

He ran into two armed guards, who startled at his unexpected appearance. He broke one of their necks with one hand as he grabbed the man’s throat and squeezed. Killing a human being without a direct order was a strange experience. He was doing it for the benefit of another, however, so there was no reluctance on his part.

The second one tried to bring up his gun, but Locus ripped it from his hand and then crushed the man’s head, helmet and all, into the wall. Locus sidestepped both bodies as he continued onward.

There was a great deal of chaos in the docking bay. The mercenaries attempting to get the exterior blast door off of the shuttle had finally found the sense to bring over a plasma saw to slice through the heavy metal door.

Locus merely brought up the gun he had lifted from the earlier mercenary and took two precise head shots of the closest mercenaries. That got the rest to pay attention. The man with the saw dropped it and it sliced through his leg before shorting out.

It was his first true experience with combat, but the android was well equipped. The memories he had of Locus’ fighting style were also helpful. The mercenaries had no idea what or who he was, but he shot dead anyone stupid enough to try to get close to hit him.

The ones who opted to shoot at him encountered his overshield. The armor was top of the line. The mods were powerful compared to the earlier models from Freelancer. He experimented and activated the time distortion unit.

He disliked the fact that it still ate up a chunk of his energy reserves, but it was useful when it allowed him to quickly disarm and knock down all seven mercenaries still standing. He deactivated the mod as soon as he could and watched the bodies drop to the hangar floor. Some of them had died from the impact. His hits were heavy handed with or without mod enhancements.

Turning, Locus saw bullet holes on the exterior doors. He marched over and decrypted the locks on them. The door pulled back with some protest where the metal was now warped.

For a full second, he thought he was going to find Felix dead on the floor of the shuttle.

Then, he saw that the interior door was still shut and unbroken, with none of the bullets having gotten inside. He had made it just in time.

He unlocked the interior door. He stepped up the short ramp and found Felix waiting for him.

Felix was standing in the center of the shuttle. He had his pistol in his right hand, but it wasn’t raised at the door. He hadn’t put his helmet back on either.

“If you’re going to kill me, do it quick,” Felix said. He offered his trademark grin; crooked and fearless. It hid his exhaustion and brokenness all too well. “While the babysitter’s away.”

Locus felt irrationally amused by the statement.

“Did you just refer to yourself as an infant?” he asked.

The amusement grew at the sight of Felix’s expression dropping. He lost the grin and his lips widened in open-mouth shock.

Locus pushed past the human and hit the door controls. The doors folded down, draping them in darkness. Locus knew they had to get going. They would need to reinforce the exterior doors whenever they reached a safe installation, far from where they were then.

Felix just watched him, swaying as the ship lifted and then moved away from the dock. The _Charon_ hadn’t attempted to fire on them, so they quickly put distance between them. Felix expression seemed stuck on open-mouthed shock when Locus looked back at him.

“No...way,” Felix said.

“This shouldn’t come as a surprise, at least as a possibility,” Locus said.

Felix’s voice became strangled. “What the fuck? _What the fuck?!_ ”

Locus merely gestured at himself.

“Hargrove wanted to recreate a more...perfect Meta. Both Locus and Sharkface were candidates for the procedure, until Sharkface’s death made it clear that humans are fallible,” he said. “Hargrove, clearly, is not the genius the late Dr. Church had been.”

Felix just continued to gawk at him.

“That’s a robot body in there?” he finally asked, eyes narrowed at the armor.

“Yes, a modified combat droid. I decided to appropriate it, since Hargrove won’t be needing it any longer.”

Locus remained at the controls and made sure they would be clear of that sector as quickly as possible. Any UNSC ships brought in to track down the remaining space pirates or Hargrove would be a threat until they could find a new shuttle.

“What are you doing now?” Felix asked. He was suddenly closer, peering warily at the hands on the control.

“Leaving,” Locus said. “If you’re not in the mood for assisted suicide anymore, we should get underground quickly.”

Felix was suddenly right there by his arm. He was staring up at AI in disbelief.

“Why?” he demanded.

“Hargrove won’t be taken by surprise for long. He’s likely quite desperate after losing Chorus and his standing with the military. We make convenient targets for revenge.”

Especially after Locus just stole his armor. It wasn’t really stealing, of course. Locus had been made partially for the use of the armor. In a way, he was just retrieving what was his.

“Why are you doing this?” Felix asked, becoming angry.

Locus turned and faced him properly, peering down at the unmasked mercenary. “Why am I doing what?”

“Why are you dragging me along for this?”

“We’re partners, aren’t we?” Locus asked.

Felix stared at him, awestruck.

Then, he lunged.

The pure rage was startling, even though Locus had predicted it. He grabbed the fist aimed for his visor and he yanked Felix’s wrist downward. The other hand made contact with his neck and he could feel Felix’s fingers attempt to grab hold of anything he could to pull and rip out.

Felix was screaming and the sound was less from a man and more like from an animal. The ferocity of his hits and his kicks couldn’t overpower the android shell, let alone the armor, but still, he tried. The exhaustion and lack of food had taken their toll, however.

Locus flipped him over and pinned him to the floor. Felix stopped screaming, but he kept trying to free his hands. Every time he ripped one arm away, he slammed a fist repeatedly on any part of Locus he could. Blood smeared against Locus’ visor. His cuts had torn open.

Locus finally managed to pin both of his hands and remained calmly on top of him until Felix’s hysterical breathing had turned into deep, heaving breaths. Felix’s eyes were blown wide as he stared up at the android. Locus wasn’t sure if he was really seeing anything. He didn’t know the full complexities of human emotion, but he knew Felix had reached his limits.

“He made me promise, too,” Locus said. “Indirectly.”

Felix was almost hyperventilating, but the sudden comment made his eyes refocus.

“What?” The question was forced out behind clenched teeth.

“Locus, when he agreed to Hargrove and Price’s suggestion to donate brain tissue for this new Meta project,” Locus said. “His only stipulations were that activating me would be a last resort and that I would be again paired up with you. He insisted that these stipulations be honored.”

He recalled only pieces of Locus’ final thoughts before his creation as a smart AI. The focus had been on winning the outcome on Chorus, at least for Price and Hargrove. Locus had been distracted by the likelihood of success or failure. He preferred planning for the worst. He anticipated his own death as readily as he prepared escape options for two.

Whether or not he had stolen the AI from Hargrove after the fact was unclear. Why Hargrove would allow the expensive piece of experimental technology to remain in Locus’ hands, when Locus was going into active military zones, wasn’t clear either. There were a lot of uncertainties that _this_ Locus decided were unimportant at that time.

Some things he was more certain of, especially while staring Felix dead in the eyes and watching his expression change. Each minute shift of his lips and eyes were fascinating and only made Locus surer.

“Because I think the grief you’re experiencing now would be mirrored by your partner, if your situations had been reversed,” he said.

If he was made for a purpose other than remaining by Felix’s side, Hargrove hadn’t made it clear enough. The mind he had been harvested from had overwritten any other goal.

Felix lied there, either allowing exhaustion to overtake him finally or he was just taken by surprise by Locus’ words. Locus released him and got to his feet. He could see Felix shaking and wasn’t surprised to see his agitation return.

“Why did you bother with this?” Felix asked. He was struggling again. “Why come all the way back to get a body? You don’t need it.”

“I do,” Locus said.

“For what?!” Felix demanded, rolling and rising from the floor on his elbows.

“Eventually, Chorus won’t be a death trap waiting to happen. Give it a year. Maybe five. Ten. Whenever the news settles and the issue drops from the universe’s attention, you can get the revenge you want, if you still want it,” he said. “They’ll likely won’t be expecting you after so long. They certainly won’t be expecting me.”

Locus didn’t need the memories of the human he was based on to know that “sit and wait” didn’t work for Felix. The mercenary was always a bundle of energies, often negative in nature. His anger and grief weren’t going to go away with a few placating words.

But there were other factors at work. Felix was staring at Locus and then the rest of his body. The armor was sleek and ready to be used as a weapon of war. The android beneath the metal exterior was a hurdle for Felix to face later. Locus would make sure they took things slow.

Felix launched to his feet, but he didn’t move closer. He kept watching the AI like he expected something else to change.

“Why did he have you with him?” he asked. His voice had gotten hoarse.

“I don’t know,” Locus admitted. “Maybe he expected that you would be forced to flee and he wanted to have a backup plan. It’s doubtful he predicted everything that happened, but here I am.”

He tried to imagine what happened that day at the wreck site on Chorus, when Locus died. Locus had lived long enough to give Felix the AI chip. He had lived long enough to get Felix to see the sense in running rather than staying to fight to the death. He had lived long enough to remind Felix of his promise to kill him at the very end.

The only thing Locus had were the memories of how his predecessor saw Felix and their partnership. _This_ Locus knew that it was impossible that anything that had happened after Locus’ death could have happened differently.

It was inevitable that a wild boy from Earth and a colony drifter end up together in the course of the war, hating and loving the other, surviving by climbing over the corpses of others until it was just them, and that _just them_ became all that mattered. That one of them would fall and the other carried on had seemed impossible. Together had been inevitable.

It just felt right, and it felt inevitable, that he was there to see it continue. He didn’t bother analyzing it further.

He didn’t have to, since what little there was in terms of purpose was right there in front of them. Felix was indecisive. He was worn down to raw edges.

But Felix was a survivor. He was made immortal by every near miss and unexpected success. Surviving this--surviving losing what helped him achieve that immortality--was just a set back.

Locus watched him drag it all back inside. Felix watched him; he was like a wild animal ready for fight-or-flight in a split second. Locus let him have that silence and time to think.

“Until things calm down...” Felix said. He took a steadying breath. “Where do we go?”

“Wherever you’d like to go, Felix,” Locus said.

He didn’t have any other purpose at that point. The technology and legacy he was based on--the ill-fated Freelancer project--had been dedicated to specific goals and scientific endeavors. They had made him to maintain the Meta-II armor, but there had been nothing else uploaded yet as mission priority.

The only thing he had to go on was what Locus had given him. And that was enough to keep him there.

The human glanced over at him. His eyes were bright and wild, but Locus remembered them like that--from what _Locus_ remembered during their seven years together. Felix’s eyes were always wild and that was perfectly him.

“Just get us out of here,” Felix said. He rubbed his hand against his mouth. His eyes never stopped blazing.

Locus tilted his head and felt his lips rise, into a smile that might have been his own, or maybe the memory of one.

“Then let’s go.”

They had all the time in the world.

  


 

**Author's Note:**

> ...and then they flew off into the sunset to enact indiscriminate violence in the cosmos.


End file.
